


Start over

by orphan_account



Series: An experiment [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	

She heard him picked the lock of her front door..

She took her time, raising from her bed and reaching for her robe. She knew him well to expect this kind of behaviour from him.

She avoided him since that day, never answered his calls or even checked messages from him. She didn’t know what to do with everything that had happened.

She wanted to hurt him.

She admitted to herself that was the reason why she asked him to say those words first, knowing he would never mean them and it would only cause him distress to say it to anyone at all.

He was Sherlock Holmes, he doesn't do love, it was her ' _if I'm going down I'll take you with me'_ kind of revenge.

What she couldn’t process was how the words didn’t sound like a lie both times he said them. She couldn’t even fathom how he had said it twice.

She asked him to say it like he meant it, _he was an excellent performer,_  she reminded reminded herself.

But it never worked on her, she always saw through his s**t, he didn't fool her even once when he faked flirting with her, she knew every single time.

And what she heard that day wasn’t a lie, it was the reason why she couldn’t face him.

It scared the daylights out of her, there was nothing crueler than hope.

She tightened the robe around herself, walking slowly into the living room and turning on the lights as she passed the switch.

He was standing there, he looked well in general, nice suit, the same belstaff, perfect hair and neatly wound scarf.

But she knew him, the redness of his eyes and the slight shake of his hands told her another story, he wasn't well at all.

* * *

 

"I've never begged in my life" he said after eyeing her for a long time, waiting for her to kick him out of her home and her life.

But she was patient, asking him to explain with her warm eyes.

_And this was the best he could come with?_

He prepared himself for days on what he should say, how to assure her he meant every word, to tell her all the circumstances that surrounded him that day.

He knew Lestrade told her few details about what happened but he wanted her to know everything.

But standing in front of her, seeing her pale skin and her exhausted eyes took him aback.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she bit her lips to stop, giving him another chance.

He tried to remember the words he had practiced.

"My sister threatened she would blow up your house if I couldn't make you say it," he began with facts.

"She gave me three minutes," he closed his eyes in pain."Just three minutes."

_The shortest and longest three minutes of my life. The three minutes when I realized I could lose you if I didn’t hurt you. I was stupid, I didn’t realize how in love I already was with you._

He wanted to tell her that, but he didn’t. He took her sight, strong and fragile at the same time. She was truly the definition of a paradox.

"Don't you ever ignore my calls again," he told her instead,with shaking voice and pleading eyes then he remembered this wasn't a part of his speech.

He closed his eyes again to gain control this time.

"What I want to say is – it wasn't you.It was me and I was the experiment." 

He needed her to know he would never play with her feelings this way, he needed her to believe that he cared for her too much that it hurt, he couldn't even think of the word even after he said it, coward.

He waited for her to say something – anything. She looked hurt at first, contemplative with what he had said to her and was looking down at her own feet.

Then, after what felt like a lifetime, she looked up and smiled at him.

"You did what you had to do, your friend was in danger and you did your  _ **best**_ to save her".

"No, no,no, you don't understand," he said exasperatedly.

Not what he meant, not what he wanted to say – no.

"She wanted me to say it" he looked to her in desperation.

She frowned

_Why can't she see me?_

"There was a coffin with the words written on it" he said swallowing hard trying not to tremble and failing.

Her eyes widened.

"She knew" his lips began to quiver.

He could tell she wanted to say something, so he pressed on. He had to say it before he lost all his nerves. All his resolve.

"My darkest fear and my worst nightmare," he clenched his fist. "Losing you without having the chance –"

 She looked at him questioningly.

"– to say those words," he couldn't bring himself to say it – not again, not yet.

But she understood, like he knew she would.

"I wanted you to know that I meant it, every single word," he said ready to leave, to let her think of what he said. He knew that she had told John before she needed time, but he couldn't just let her go on with her assumptions without explaining everything – without telling her what she meant to him.

"Sherlock" 

Her soft voice prompted him to turn on his heel.

"I was wondering," she looked down thinking, tightening her arms around her body as if she was protecting herself from more pain.

And then she did the unthinkable, she looked up at him and smiled. He was baffled.

"Would you like to have coffee"

Sherlock wasn’t sure if he should kneel, thanking Molly and promising her everything or to pull her close and laugh, really laugh. But he knew enough that he had to take it slow. He owed Molly at least that much. In the end, he nodded.

"Black, two sugars."

She chuckled.

He grinned in relief.

 


End file.
